Winged

One: Ashes to Ashes

Hello dear readers, and welcome to Winged!
Thanks so much for checking this book out. It really means the world to me that you chose this book and I can't wait to introduce you to my favorite characters. You don't have to love my work; although it's a bonus if you do- because I enjoy writing it and this is my hobby that I love. All I ask is that you keep in mind that this is not a published book. You're reading it for free and more likely than not it will have mistakes, unmet deadlines and plot holes although I'll fix them as I develop my work. 

Happy reading, whatever book you choose to fill your pastime with. 

With love, from Caitlin. 

꧁꧂

Aidene Odmiere. Aidene? The name spins torment in my mind, cruelly dangling just out of my reach. Who-
My thoughts are cut. Blocked. Stopped. I forget the name.

I run, each step like pushing through water. If only I could find them, my friends-

Cut.

My friends? No... They left me.

With this final thought, my mind is fractured into a million tiny shards with a loud piercing blast that throws me backwards. Memories reflected in them are cast away, lost in the cracks between furniture and walls, forever.

Wake. Up.

꧁꧂

I sit up, muscles aching, back throbbing. The sun warms my body, blaring at my eyes beneath their lids. My heart quivers frantically against my chest from a dream I've already forgotten. I'm lying on rock, small pebbles digging into my skin. I attempt to flop back, crushing my feathered wings into the ground- Ouch.

When I open my eyes, the sun hangs above me. Wincing, I block it out with my hand. It must be around midday. Heat causes light beads of sweat to cling to my brow, and I know that I'll be sunburned soon if I don't move.

Fine. I'll get up. One more moment, please.

I part my fingers enough to let a sliver of light cut across my face, my eyes still stinging. Screw you, sun. My stomach growls. I groan as I sit up, bringing my pale arms to rest on my knees. They're bone-thin like the rest of me. Against the red front of my tattered blouse, my skin looks ashen and pale. 

I slide my eyes over my blouse, torn skirt, ankles and down to bare feet, rough with wear. Where am I? I can't remember a thing. Did someone knock me out and bring me here? Why are the black spots in my vision still lingering? Why do I have so many questions?

I stand up to my full height- which isn't very tall by the way- and scan the full canopy of trees before me. My stomach gurgles a protest but I'm not desperate enough to stumble through the woodlands and into a bear, searching for some small rabbit I could never catch. 

I turn, taking in the other side of my surroundings. The forest ends to my left, and down the rocky slope I am standing on is a small village, with twenty or so weathered stone huts scattered across the mountainside.

Farther past the settlement the ground drops in a steep curve, dipping into a canyon before rising again to form a second summit, smaller than this one. Peeking over its slope sits a towering palace that must be almost a h s tall as the mountain itself, sparkling in the sun. I squint. It has a greenish pallor and appears smooth, like a gemstone.

The village overlooking this all doesn't look rich, but it doesn't look beggared either. Perhaps whoever lives there may provide some information about my situation. And cook me a nice roast. And tuck me into a warm bed, and invite me to stay a week. Or two...